


Lacrimoso

by bella (bella_azzurri)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fix-It, Post-Endgame, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 13:37:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18801406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bella_azzurri/pseuds/bella
Summary: Kathryn visits Chakotay's grave, five years after his passing. She reflects on the time they had together.Musical definition of lacrimoso: tearfully; i.e. sadly.





	Lacrimoso

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-ed. All mistakes are mine.

She slowly trudged up the hill, her knees complaining at the uphill climb. She stopped at the halfway point momentarily to catch her breath and rest, before she continued upwards.

It was still late afternoon and the sun was shining, a light breeze cooling her when she finally reached her destination. Under the shade of the single tree at the top of the hill, she knelt. Casting her eyes upwards at first, she leaned forward, placing her hands on the dry, fallen leaves, brushing them aside to reveal the stone. She traced her fingers across the engraving.

She used to come here every day, kneeling as she did now, long silent conversations stretching out until darkness. Now, she only managed once a week, her aching bones and muscles a testament to her advancing age.

He wouldn’t have wanted her to do this, but, stubborn as always, she did. And she would do this until her last breath. She could hear him now, admonishing her for pushing herself, for looking back and not forward, for sitting here and talking to him when she shouldn’t be.

She felt every single one of the five years since he’d gone. She thought she would be reduced to merely existing at his passing, but there was a voice – his voice – always urging her to keep going, to keep doing, to keep feeling. 

No regrets, he urged. They were together a long time, but it was his time now, and she had to – no, she must – carry on. It will be okay, he said. More than okay.

She didn’t realise how long she had sat until she heard the approaching footfalls, boots pressing heavily against the grass. When she looked up, the sun was just beginning to set.

The footfalls stopped, and a shadow covered her kneeling form.

B’Elanna knelt down next to her. She silently placed a hand on the stone.

Kathryn only cried once, when he breathed his last. They had talked at length before, when he wasn’t tired, when they weren’t interrupted by the endless parade of doctors and nurses. Eventually, she had him moved back to their home, their bed, assigning the Doctor to care for him in his final days.

They had fifty-seven years together. Seven of those were shared in a tumultuous journey across seventy-thousand light years, the foundations of a deep and enduring friendship laid for what was to come. The fifty years after were spent together, hardly a few weeks apart at any one time, dedicated to space travel, then back on Earth at the Academy, and finally in the twilight years pottering about the home they built, family and friends never too far away.

It was not an unfulfilling life, and her own now continued to be full. There would always be this emptiness in her heart, its fullness wrenched from her that day five years ago.

She had hoped, and maybe even prayed, for a little more time in their advanced age, but life had other ideas. She was not ungrateful for the time they did have, and she knew this day would come. Perhaps she always thought she would go first. After all, he was always the stronger between the two of them. He would smile now if he heard her, telling her she was her own worst enemy.

She felt B’Elanna’s hand on her shoulder.

“Kathryn, it’s getting late,” she said quietly.

B’Elanna. Her – and his – nearest and dearest. The half-Klingon had steadfastly stood by her side after their Delta Quadrant journey, at the same time knocking sense into the man she loved when she herself didn’t have the strength or courage. She held Kathryn’s hand, let Kathryn spill her despair on her shoulders, before finally pushing her stubborn, and at the time, prideful self, to him. And not a moment too soon.

Steadfast again was the woman beside her as she wept over his lifeless body, when they buried him, when the stone was unveiled, on the first anniversary of his passing, every anniversary after. B’Elanna ensured she didn’t have to do this alone, and she was filled with gratitude.

Kathryn lifted a hand to pat B’Elanna’s knee, before motioning for help to get onto her feet. B’Elanna rose first, before wrapping an arm under Kathryn’s torso to lift her up. She noticed B’Elanna was in uniform today – of course, it was a Wednesday, she was teaching – her Captain’s pips glinting in the reddened rays of the setting sun.

She stood quietly again, whispering her love and farewell until next week, before turning to B’Elanna and nodding.

Kathryn took B’Elanna’s arm as they slowly made their way downhill. When they finally reached the base, B’Elanna led her to a ground vehicle.

Admiral Paris – Tom – stood leaning against the vehicle. When they approached him, he stepped forward to kiss his wife, before turning to embrace her.

They worried about her, she knew. She was family to them and they hers, their sorrow no less acute than hers when Chakotay passed away. But they never tried to pry her away from her daily, now weekly, visits to this place. They would simply find her.

Tom released her from the embrace, breaking the silence, “Miral and the kids will be home for Ancestor’s Eve.”

Kathryn smiled. Her husband always enjoyed Ancestor’s Eve. It had been their Delta Quadrant tradition, one started by Neelix, and one all who remain still honoured. The first year after his passing, she held it at their home for the last time, passing the torch to B’Elanna and Tom after.

This year will be no different, and despite also following her parents’ footsteps in joining Starfleet, Miral came home for Ancestor’s Eve more often than not. Now, it was with her partner and teenaged children in tow. B’Elanna and Tom would be happy to see their beloved grandchildren again, as would she, the honourary great-aunt.

He told her to carry on, to live the best life she could, until their spirits met again. He was so sure, so steadfast of their eternal connection, that he had been more concerned about how she would go on in this living world than his deteriorating health.

She was determined to follow through with his wishes. He knew her deeply, and he would have allowed the small concession of her visits to his final resting place.

As Tom helped her into the vehicle, a sudden wash of serenity swept through her. Perhaps, she might see him again sooner than she thought.

The vehicle sped away from the hillside.


End file.
